I’ll Fly Away

By Jeff Baker

Eddie slapped the side of the plane, making the wing vibrate.

“Hit it!” Eddie yelled.

“On it, I mean Roger!” Manny said.

“Flaps up!” Eddie yelled.

“Flaps up!” Manny said.

“Wheels off! “Eddie said.

“They’re off!” Manny said.

“An’ we’re up!” Eddie yelled. “Lookit the clouds down there!”

“Yeah!” Manny yelled. “Hey, I’m supposed to be the pilot this time!”

“Oh, right!”

The two of them quickly opened the doors and ducked around the propeller in the parking lot, hopping back into the cockpit.

“All right, we ready?” Manny asked.

“Ready!” Eddie said.

“Thennnnnn GO!”

“Hey! What’re you two doing?” The laughing voice came from outside the plane.

“Hey, Granddad!” Manny said, as his Granddad stared in the cockpit of the front half of the small plane pushed up against the wall of his shop.

“Where’d you hear all that airplane lingo?” Granddad asked.

“Played a movie last night!” Manny said.

“Fireplanes Over Topeka!” Eddie chimed in.

“It was cool!” Manny said.

“Yeah!” said Eddie. “I’m gonna be a pilot someday!”

“Me too!” Manny said.

“Well, you’ll have to finish school first,” granddad said.

“Awwwwwwwww!” the boys said.

“Look, you take your cousin in the house; I bet Gramma has something special for you in the kitchen.”

The kids cheered as they hopped out of the cockpit and ran into the part of the shop that was a home.

Granddad shook his head and smiled. How old were they? Eight? He remembered when he was eight. He remembered the firefights; the night the skyscrapers downtown burned; the tanks that rolled through the streets.

He sighed. Hopefully, pilots would only fly on missions of peace.

He headed into the building.

—end—